


Contested Offering

by xannish



Category: Original Work
Genre: Come Inflation, Dragons, M/M, Monster sex, Sex Slave, Size Difference, Size Kink, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xannish/pseuds/xannish
Summary: Tareth was born and trained for this moment, when he would be offered to the dragon that protected this land to serve the beast's pleasure. But when the dragon finally arrives, things get... complicated.





	Contested Offering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



> Sorry, recipient, if this is a little rough. In more ways than one. Still... hope you enjoy!

Tareth had always known his fate. Their lands had existed under the shadow of dragon wings since time immemorial—and this was safety. The dragons guarded against even worse beings which hungered in the wild lands, who, if given the opportunity, would rush across the land and destroy everything. So the tribes, kingdoms, and villages gave offerings to the dragons in exchange for their protection. Some demanded gems and precious metals, fine silks, materials of all kinds. Some even asked for items made by men—sculptures, paintings, even books and scrolls. Some, however, required the most precious and painful tribute of all—human lives. Not, by and large, as a foodstuff as legend might state, but humans had deft hands and flexible bodies which the dragons valued for all sorts of labor, but once one had seen the dragons' lairs, they were never allowed to return to the human lands. That would be far too much of a vulnerability for the reptilian masters.

So the human lands endeavored to offer the finest in human treasure as well, trained from childhood to any number of tasks a dragon might demand of them. The rarest and least spoken-of of these trained offerings were those such as Tareth. In a caste of people taught utter subservience, he had stood out from childhood as one who found pleasure in it, who thrilled, even, in the taste of pain. And when he began to come into adulthood and was told that some dragons demanded humans for carnal pleasure, his reaction was... atypical. His calling was clear.

He had trained for years, at this point, learning the ways to pleasure a body that was not human, nor of human stature, and attempting to adapt his own body to accommodate his future master. He knew that some offerings were broken utterly, even their first time in a dragon's hands. The thought scared him, of course, but the thought of the powerful beasts with that capability thrilled him even more.

And now the day had come. The summer solstice sun beat down relentlessly upon the wide stone plateau where the humans left their offerings for this region. There were a few trunks of treasures, as well as two fat sheep who were very much for the dragon's normal appetites.

Then there was Tareth. He was clothed in airy blue silks and a few pieces of the gold jewelry from the offering. He had spent days preparing himself, re-memorizing the tricks of pleasing draconic anatomy. He'd also been practicing in other ways, filling himself with larger and larger toys and plugs until he knew that he could take a dragon's girth. He'd nearly come so many times, but he had always kept himself from the edge. He wanted that sharp ache of wanting. At this point, so close, he didn't want to be fulfilled unless it was in serving his Master.

Thinking about that was arousing him again. Today, he was filled with lubricant, held in only by the large plug that he wore to keep himself ready, all of it making him acutely aware of his purpose here. So close...

It was the shadow that first alerted him to the dragon's presence. A momentary eclipse of the sun by broad wings. He looked up at the silhouette, but had little time to contemplate it before the dragon was diving down. The wind of its wings nearly buffeted Tareth backward. He fell to his knees, to hold his ground as well as in supplication.

Tareth looked up through his long lashes, trying to get a good look at his new owner without being rude. The dragon's scales were dark and shimmering. Nearly black, Tareth thought, except that in the sunlight they were clearly deepest violet. From the way that the broad scales of the dragon's underbelly met to, yes, there was the distinctive crest down his neck, he was also clearly a male. Tareth's growing erection twitched. Gods, he had both hoped and feared he'd be given to a male. His own tastes and fantasies had always gone to males, though he had studied to please females of the species just as thoroughly. And in person, the dragon was _large_. His body was larger than any horse, and his presence made even greater by the width of his wings, the thick, graceful curves of his neck and tail.

The dragon folded his wings and looked around at the offerings. He flicked a chest open with one claw and sniffed at the gold, and spared a glance at the terrified sheep. Finally, the dragon's eyes settled on Tareth. 

Tareth, already on his knees, pushed himself to the ground. “O, Glorious One, welcome. Please accept these gifts that we offer, including the gift of my life and services. It would please me to know the name of the Glorious One to whom I am bound, if it pleases You to offer it.”

“Shadescale,” the dragon said, his voice lighter and drier than Tareth might have expected, the rustle of wind in leaves. “Tell me, your services...”

“A-a mating slave, Glorious One. I have learned as best I can to bring pleasure to Your kind, and would be honored to serve in this capacity, or any capacity You see fit. My body is Yours.”

The dragon—Shadescale—leaned closer, appraising, his curiosity clearly piqued. “I've never had one of you before,” he remarked, seemingly to himself. “Interesting...”

The dragon noticed the second shadow first. He looked up sharply, and let out a soft hiss as the unmistakable shape of a second dragon appeared, growing larger by the second.

Shadescale mantled, wings flaring protectively, guarding the treasures, but the other dragon continued his descent, until he landed with such force that the ground trembled. “Goldclaw,” Shadescale murmured, “Of course.”

The name was fitting. This male was even larger than the first, and as bright as the other was dark, his hide gleaming as if it were cast from real metal.

Without missing a beat, the newcomer stalked forward. “Shadescale, I see you've come to claim the spoils of this new territory. Braver than I would have expected from you, since I believe we had agreed to hold this land jointly, when the time came.”

“That was before you left,” Shadescale snarled. “Though I should have expected you'd return for this, when my sire's lair has scarcely cooled.”  
“You have my condolences, though I suspect it came as a relief. Still, this is one of the most lucrative territories in the east, but also one of the most dangerous. Are you sure you're up to it, little one?”  
Shadescale growled, and Tareth could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Please, Master,” Tareth whispered.

Shadescale didn't even glance down, but the newcomer, Goldclaw, seemed to hear. His head snapped towards Tareth. He crouched, stretching out his neck perilously close to the darker dragon as he peered down, but Shadescale, perhaps out of some old habit, moved over to allow his view.

“What's this?” He sniffed the air. “A mating slave? A male? Oh, _oh_ , that is far too precious to be wasted on _you_.”

Shadescale, seeming to recover himself, stretched out a wing, moving to put himself between Goldclaw and Tareth. “It doesn't matter. This isn't yours! He's not yours, _I'm_ not yours, you can't have it!”

Goldclaw cocked his head, “Oh? You think you can keep any of it from me? Perhaps I will just have to take it by force, claim _all_ of your lands and _all_ of your hoard.”

Tareth could feel the thundering of the smaller dragon's heartbeat. He was angry, but also afraid. “You wouldn't dare. I have allies.”

“They were my allies too, once, and, more importantly, they aren't _here_ , are they?”

This was bad. Very bad. If the dragons fought here, Tareth and the rest of the offerings would likely be destroyed. More, they were close enough to the village that if the dragons resorted to flame... It couldn't happen. If Tareth could prevent it... 

“Please, Masters,” he spoke, his voice faltering at first, but growing louder, stronger as both dragons stopped and turned toward him. “Masters, Glorious Ones, please, perhaps there are still solutions, but I would beg, please find Your solutions in peace. For me, for my small worth, I would give what little my body can offer to please You both.”

“Both of us?” Goldclaw asked, incredulous, “Don't be absurd.”

Tareth bowed his head. “Please make use of me and see what I may offer. Masters, even if You must continue this, even if all is burned in Your anger, I beg You to give me this. Let me be of use before I die.”

Goldclaw made a rumbling noise that turned into a laugh. “What an eager little slut you are, aren't you? Begging to be fucked more than begging for your life. I like it.” He tilted his head toward Shadescale. “Who am I to argue? I'll take his offer.”

Shadescale shifted uncomfortably. “I... I am _curious._.”

“Please, let me show you.” He crawled on hands and knees toward Goldclaw, tentative, and the dragon cautiously sat back on his haunches, curling his tail behind him for support and allowing access to his underbelly.

Tareth reached up his trembling hands to touch the broad scales. They were hot, to the touch, so strong, so soft, and so, finally _real_ , better than any of his fantasies. He found the dragon's genital slit and stroked his hand down it. It twitched beneath his touch and the dragon rumbled softly. Moving on what felt like instinct, Tareth placed his hands on either side and leaned his face in, smelling the dry, heady smell of the dragon. He licked.

Goldclaw made a noise of encouragement and Tareth continued, his fingers working along the soft scales and his mouth exploring the crevice until the pink nub of the dragon's tapered tip began to emerge. This, Tareth took in his mouth. At its tip, it was no larger than the head of a human penis, but as he continued to give it attention, more and more of it began to emerge, and Tareth shifted his hands to the slick length of it. It was as long as his arm, and thicker than that at the base, with a ridge of bumps down the bottom of it, along the vein. It was curved, more flexible than a human member, and Tareth exulted at it. He himself was rock hard and leaking into the silk of his pants, but he paid it no mind as he continued to suck and stroke, teasing and pleasuring this great beast, who was clearly enjoying it.

“Wait, can I try some?” Shadescale's voice cut through the warm fog in Tareth's mind. “I mean, you _said_ you could please both of us.”

Tareth drew his hands away from Goldclaw's length and turned. “As You wish, Master,” he said to Shadescale, then looked up at Goldclaw. “I will return to You, I promise.”

“Well, you could scarcely hope to get away,” the larger dragon retorted.

Tareth looked back to Shadescale. Far from being cautious as before, the smaller dragon now lay back and spread his hind legs completely, giving total access to his body. His own cock was already peaking from his slit, clearly aroused by Tareth's display with Goldclaw.

Tareth crawled onto Shadescale's belly, laying along the hot length of his body as he lowered his hands and face to the dragon's cock, as he had with Goldclaw, but this time with far better access, and a bit more confidence. He lapped at the flesh, darker than Goldclaw's, tasting the sticky liquid that already beaded at the tip. Shadescale gave a rumbling moan.

There was a growl of frustration from behind them and Tareth looked back, saw Goldclaw crouching, his cock so erect it was flat against his body, dripping puddles onto the dusty earth. This. This was what Tareth was born for, he thought. He knew what he had to do.

Tareth pulled reluctantly away from Shadescale's cock, whispering an apology. The dragon made a noise of protest, but did little to stop him, especially from the awkward position on his back. Tareth wriggled his pants down his hips, kicking them lightly off. The scraps of silk were lost somewhere, but he didn't care. He reached behind himself, grasping the base of the plug in his ass and gingerly sliding it out. The wave of sensation was so much that he nearly came, just from that, but held on hard with an icy determination, even as the rush of lube flooded down his legs. 

He looked back over his shoulder at Goldclaw, then. “Master, why don't you fuck me?”

Goldclaw snarled in pleasure and primal need, seeming as much beast as thinking being. Tareth shifted himself, still clinging to the length of Shadescale's cock, and buried his face again against the dragon's hot member as he lifted his ass into the air, waiting.

Goldclaw was on them in a pounce, flaring his wings over them, one claw braced on the earth above Shadescale's shoulder, the other reaching between them, grasping his cock. The smaller dragon made a sound of desperate pleasure that echoed Tareth's need perfectly.

“Hold him for me,” Goldclaw ordered, and Shadescale obeyed without hesitation, his claws coming up to grasp Tareth's waist, then shifting lower, spreading his ample ass open for the other dragon's use.

“Fuck him hard,” Shadescale moaned. “Please, I want to feel it.”

Goldclaw made a noise of satisfied agreement, and guided his cock in.

To Goldclaw's obvious surprise, the tapered tip slid into Tareth's well-prepared ass effortlessly. Encouraged, the dragon drove himself deeper. His cock was firm but flexible, hot and slick, and what at first was pleasant motion quickly became intense pressure, filling him more than he had ever been filled before. This was what he was meant for, and even the edge of pain was perfect, satisfying. Yes. This was what he was made for. This was his purpose, to be filled like this, to be used for their pleasure.

Rather than let himself cry out, rather than letting his mind be overtaken by the overwhelming sensation, Tareth sucked and stroked Shadescale desperately, wrapping his whole body around the dragon's length so that as Goldclaw pounded into him, it moved his body against Shadescale as well. He lost himself, melting into the moment, all thought fading except the sensation, his own desire wholly swallowed by the pleasure of his masters, becoming one with it. He was a vessel, a tool, a toy, and he was theirs utterly.

He vaguely heard them talking, murmuring to each other as they used him, memories of pleasure shared. He felt the shift as Goldclaw leaned in to nuzzle Shadescale's face. He was trapped between him, but there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Goldclaw's pace quickened, his thrusts hard, jerky. Tareth felt like he was impaled completely on the dragon's cock, until suddenly the dragon thrust into him even _harder_ and let out a bellow that shook the earth. Then his cock was pumping come into the human's ass. Tareth felt his stomach bulging with the sheer amount of it, stretching him more than he'd dreamed, and _finally_ , this was too much for his body to take, and he was coming too, harder than he ever had, spilling himself onto Shadescale's belly and tail, his own come mingling with what poured from the other dragon. He scarcely had time to register it before the cock beneath him was throbbing, too, and come poured into his face, across his chest. He pressed his mouth to the dragon's tip, drinking everything he could, but it was too much, too much. He was drowned in heat and warmth and unimaginable pleasure. His head swam. Everything went white.

 

Tareth woke, still a bit sticky, in a cradle of scales, one side golden, one side dark. Draconic arms interlaced over him, claws no longer bared in anger, but instead resting lightly on each others sides.

“I think our plaything is awake,” Goldclaw murmured.

“Good,” Shadescale answered, and the dark claw shifted to brush a strand of damp hair from the human's face.

“Well, little human,” Goldclaw began, “I suppose you held up your promise.”

“And _how_ ,” Shadescale added.

“We've decided we _will_ try to hold this land jointly, and to... try again with our own bonds. With each other. And with you.”

“If you are agreeable to this?” Shadescale asked.

“Perfectly,” Tareth answered, leaning his cheek into the warmth of their scales. “It's perfect.”


End file.
